How I Used To Be
by YuRi Shipper
Summary: [Warning - deals with suicide] Hitomi was pushed too far - can Kasumi save her? Or is it already too late? [One-Shot]


YuRi Shipper: Well, I wasn't sure when to update… so I'm giving you this little ficlet to tide you over until the next chapter of 'Make it Go Away' comes out. It's a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own the song 'Unwell', though Matchbox 20 does indeed sing it. I also don't own the DoA characters.

_All day staring at the ceiling makin'… _

_Friends with shadows on my wall_

_All night, hearin' voices tellin' me,_

_That I should get some sleep, _

_Because tomorrow might be good for somethin'…_

She gazed at her reflection in the mirror, which was still fogged up with steam from the shower. Dull grey-blue eyes stared back at her, with dark lines beneath them indicating she had not slept for a while. Wet locks of bland, brown hair hung loosely, falling about her perfectly straight. Hitomi sighed, pulling the towel wrapped about her petite form closer to herself, looking downward now, at the sink.

The sink…

The same one where her blood would flow freely on an average day. The sink over which she would cut her wrists, and watch the crimson liquid leave her body in small rivers.

The dulled orbs switched from the sink to her scarred wrists, as a delicate finger from the other hand traced over each one, painfully remembering why she did that. For the control… to punish herself. What had she done? She never posed the question – she was wrong, though. She had to be wrong to have deserved her father's abuse.

_Hold on_

_Feelin' like I'm headed for a _

_Breakdown_

_And I don't know why_

She never cried about it. Not anymore… at first, she'd cried daily. Then it had happened – she'd become numb. A part of Hitomi wished she could still feel the pain… if it would get rid of the ice-like ache in her heart, she'd do anything…

Maybe that was the reason for torturing herself. She needed to escape…

She had escaped, though. Escaped to Japan, away from her father… where he couldn't lay a single finger on her.

Her gaze turned to a knife that lay beside the sink, now, its edge bloody – it was always bloody. She never bothered to clean it. Her left hand carefully picked it up, drawing the blade across soft flesh with an expert stroke, not even flinching as it dug into her skin and tore open old wounds, causing fresh blood to run below into the sink.

A beeping from the kitchen made her stop, however, dropping the knife and cleaning the wrist, bandaging it as she did every time. With one last look of contempt towards her own reflection, she left to face the day. A day that promised to be agonizing.

_But I'm not crazy_

_I'm just a little unwell_

_I know, right now you can't tell_

_But stay a while and maybe then you'll see_

_A different side of me_

_I'm not crazy_

_I'm just a little impaired_

_I know, right now you don't care_

_But soon enough you're gonna think of me…_

_And how I used to be…_

_Me…_

The finger-gloves were on, of course – they had to be. She couldn't very well walk around showing every Tom, Bill and Jack her artwork.

Like they'd care.

No, most people wouldn't – but if by chance someone did… well, that's why she hid her wrists, now, wasn't it?

She boarded the bus, glancing about warily. Was it her imagination, or were people staring at her? Each one with their beady eyes, glaring…

Hitomi shook it off, moving to the back of the bus.

_Talkin' to myself in public_

_And dodgin' glances on the train_

_And I know_

_I know they've all been talkin' 'bout me_

_I can hear them whisper… _

_And it makes me feel there must be somethin' wrong_

_With me_

_Out of all the hours thinkin'_

_Somehow…_

_I've lost my mind_

She slapped on a fake smile as she hopped off the vehicle, waving to her friend, who smile back, approaching the girl and embracing her warmly, as she did every time she visited.

"It's good to see you again, 'Tomi-chan…"

"You too…" Her throat felt dry, her voice was hoarse. Kasumi… the only person in the world she actually gave a shit about. The one person she'd have to write a note to that night.

Yes, that night… it was a date she'd decided on months in advance. Life was too hard – she couldn't keep this up. She'd take her own life to escape.

"How are you?" Amber eyes gazed at her in concern as Kasumi held the younger girl at arms length, staring into dull pools of grey-blue in concern.

"I'm fine." She would be, anyway… soon it would be all over.

_But I'm not crazy _

_I'm just a little unwell_

_I know, right now you can't tell_

_But stay a while and maybe then you'll see_

_A different side of me_

_I'm not crazy_

_I'm just a little impaired _

_I know, right now you don't care_

_But soon enough you're gonna think of me…_

_And how I used to be_

She arrived home later that night. Her father's face seemed to be everywhere. She saw him everywhere… heard him… hell, she even felt him half of the time.

No more. She couldn't take it.

"Well Papa… let's see you get me now." Hitomi whispered, actually smirking as she ripped off the finger-gloves, leaving a folded note for Kasumi on the table. She'd find it somehow – Kasumi always would find her notes.

For the last time, she picked up the knife, drawing it lightly across her flesh at first. Each cut she made screamed her agony louder than her words ever could.

The weapon clattered to the floor as she slowly sunk to her knees, holding her deeply cut wrist and leaning her head against the sink. This was it… no more pain.

_I've been talkin' in my sleep_

_Pretty soon they'll come to get me_

_Yeah, they're talking me away…_

"Hitomi?" That same note of concern she'd heard earlier in her friend's voice was intensified, and the brunette didn't even turn to look at the woman she knew it was – Kasumi.

The redhead knelt, note in hand. She'd come to check up on her little friend… and it was just as well. Tears flooded her amber gaze.

"We'll get you help, okay? Everything will be alright…"

"No." Hitomi shook her head, looking pleadingly at her friend. "I… I don't want help. I want to go…"

"Don't say that…"

_But I'm not crazy _

_I'm just a little unwell_

_I know, right now you can't tell_

_But stay a while and maybe then you'll see_

_A different side of me_

_I'm not crazy_

_I'm just a little impaired _

_I know, right now you don't care_

_But soon enough you're gonna think of me…_

_And how I used to be…_

"It's true." Both of them caved at that moment, Kasumi crying as she held the girl, who wore a blank expression on her young features.

"Please… please don't leave me… Hitomi… aishiteru." The woman was sobbing into her hurt friend, gently kissing her cheek, not even opening her eyes. "Aishiteru…"

_Yeah, how I used to be..._

_How I used to be…_

_Yeah, I'm just a little unwell…_

_How I used to be…_

_How I used to be…_

_I'm just a little unwell…_

The news flickered onto the old television set as Kasumi settled down into a chair, weary.

The reporter looked grave, as most tended to. "Last night, a young German girl living in our very own town took her life…" A picture flashed onto the screen, and the redhead stared at it, tears brimming her beautiful eyes once more.

"Her last name is unknown, but it is said she was only eighteen – Hitomi cut her wrists and died in her friend's company of blood loss."

The television was turned off. "Someday, 'Tomi… I'll see you again." Kasumi hushed promise was the last thing she ever said.

YuRi Shipper: Dark… but you've come to expect that of me, now, haven't you? At least it's sweet… and a one-shot. Not sure how I could continue this. xD R&R, though. I'd like opinions.


End file.
